


Snow Tires

by eaten_by_bears



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, Gen, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 02:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaten_by_bears/pseuds/eaten_by_bears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Autobots re-take Cybertron, Streetwise starts exploring religion. Planetformers have certain needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Tires

"Streetwise, hey.” It was Afterburner's day to watch the stores. He actually seemed glad when Streetwise came up to the requisition desk. It must have been a slow day. "What do you need?"

"I need snow tires." Streetwise rested a hand on the desk.

"You going to Earth?" The Protectobots had been transferred to Cybertron to help with the reconstruction effort until further notice. Further notice being, most likely, a disaster Earthside. There hadn’t been a public alert sent out, but the nature of disasters was to occur at short notice.

“No,” said Streetwise. “They’re for here.”

"Why would you need snow tires on Cybertron?" Afterburner asked.

Streetwise shrugged. "He didn't say."

"He? Oh." A look of dawning realization crossed his face. "You got the book to work."

A recently reclaimed data storage asteroid had contained, among other things, a pre-war religious text. Streetwise had been studying it, spending his spare hours in meditation in low areas close to the planet's core. No one had actively worshipped Primus for millions of years or seen any sign of his continued functioning for longer. Still, Streetwise figured that if a god could survive decapitation - and they had evidence that one could staring down at them from orbit - another god could survive a few eons of sleep.

"I think so,” Streetwise said. “I mean, I know I felt something."

Afterburner regarded him through hooded optics. "Is there a storm coming?" Cybertron's atmosphere was as dry as ever. If anyone had wanted to start a snowstorm, they'd have had to import the water.

Streetwise looked out the window. The planet looked just as dry to him as to Afterburner. "I don't think so. He didn't say."

"Well, what did He say to do with them?" Afterburner asked.

"Put 'em on, I think," Streetwise said.

"Put 'em on."

Streetwise nodded. He had the grace to look sheepish, but he didn't retract the request.

"All right, all right." He tapped the work screen in front of him, entering the requisition. "All four, or just the front wheels?"

Streetwise frowned, thinking it over. "Better go with all four."

"Get on the jack, holy man. I think we've got a set in the back." Afterburner gestured behind him, and Streetwise jumped the counter to set himself up in the auto shop behind them.

***

Once he had his new tires, he drove to the coordinates he'd been given. The studs clacked over the roads. It took a while to get used to the sound. There wasn’t much there when he reached the spot. It was just a flat stretch of metal ground.

"Is there something I'm supposed to find out here?" he asked quietly.

He didn't get an answer. The transmission had said to drive, though, so he did. It was a challenge to maintain the meditative, receptive state he'd learned while still keeping enough of a sensor on his surroundings that he didn't run off the path or hit anything, but he managed to pick up something at intervals. Drive North. He went north for half a megamile, until the signal said to turn and go south again. He drove back and forth like that for five breems until he was drawn to one spot in specific, where it seemed he was supposed to circle around quickly.

Something new touched his processor; not instructions this time, just an impression. It was fleeting and faint. Primus's signals always were. But for the klick or two he was tuned in, he felt a sense of such wellbeing, of such deep, animal contentment, that he counted it an afternoon well spent.

***

Megamiles below, in the planet's core, in the part of him that was vital and functioning, Primus was at peace, suffused with joy. That spot had itched for untold millennia of war and desolation, and he’d finally gotten it scratched.


End file.
